He parked his backside on a chair before his knees buckled. “A good time for what?”
“A good time for me to come and see you?”
See him? Hope bloomed in his chest, but he crammed it back into its box. Seeing her again was a bad idea. A bad fucking idea. Besides, he was still angry with her.
“Anytime is a good time to see you.”Angry, he reminded himself.
“Oh.” He heard her breath catch. “Um, I just got off the tube at Ealing Broadway. What’s your address? I’ll get an Uber.”
She wasin Ealing.His scrambled brain swung from jubilation to absolute terror. Why was she here? He gave her the address. “I’d offer to pick you up, but Ellie would have to come with me, and she’s not talking to me right now.”
“Oh, dear. Is she okay? I can come back another time.”
“No.” Whatever reason she’d come to see him, it was clearly important to her, so it was important to him. “You’re here now. Ellie will be fine. I’ve mucked up but I’ll make it right.”
“Well, if you’re sure...”
“I’m sure.”
She exhaled, and he couldn’t tell if he heard relief or dread. “There’s an Uber three minutes away. I’ll see you soon.”
The line went dead, and he hung his head, catching his breath. She’d be here in... his eyes fell to the mess in the kitchen. Fuck.
Like a man possessed, he swept up cereal, unloaded the dishwasher, and clattered the dirty bowls and plates into it.
He pulled the wet things out of the washing machine and had just grabbed an armful of dirty laundry to shove into it when the doorbell rang. With a sharp exhale, he pushed them in, slammed the door shut, and went to answer the door.
He was expecting it to be hard, seeing her again. He wasn’t expecting the punch to his gut.
“Hi.” He barely managed to squeeze the word out. He felt winded, slayed by the sight of her standing on his scruffy doorstep. She was so elegant, so neat in her trim black coat tied at the waist, her hair scraped back in a ponytail, her face, her bloody beautiful face, devoid of any obvious makeup. “You don’t look right standing there,” he blurted out. Her smile vanished and he realized how that had sounded. “I didn’t mean... fuck, I need to be angry with you, and part of me still is, but a bigger part is so damn happy to see you, even if whatever it is you want to talk about isn’t what I want to hear.” He dragged a hand through his hair. “I meant that my place is a mess, and you’re way too classy to be stepping foot in it.”
Her shoulders hunched and her gaze fell to the floor. “Thank you but I don’t feel classy. Not after the way I behaved.”
He couldn’t stand to see her looking anything less than her usual confident self. “Hey.” He gently lifted her chin, making sure her eyes met his. “We talked that through, it’s fine.” The residual anger melted away, drowned by the joy at seeing her. “I kind of ambushed you, meeting you outside your work. I shouldn’t have done that.”
“No, don’t be kind to me. You did a lovely thing, meeting me.” She rolled her shoulders, meeting his gaze squarely. “To be clear, I said what I did because I was worried if people at work knew I was dating someone, they might find a way to use it against me, especially when the man I was dating was so much younger. It wasn’t because I was embarrassed at being withyou. But I didn’t think how it would make you feel. It was shallow and thoughtless. Also very stupid.” Her brilliant hazel eyes remained on his, unwavering. “Their opinion doesn’t matter. My sisters, my family, whattheythink matters. They said I should come and see you.”
She’d not been embarrassed by him; she’d been protecting herself, and maybe even him, worried about Stuart using their relationship to beat her to the promotion. It helped, but it was a long way from her wanting to be with him. “Why, Livvy? Why are you here?”
Chapter 24
The man who’d opened the door to her wearing jogging bottoms and a frayed T-shirt was a little disheveled, his hair a mess, like he’d been jamming his fingers through it, but he was every bit as sexy as she remembered. With one key difference.
This Connor held her at arm’s length.
His smile was warm but strained, his blue eyes bright but guarded. She couldn’t blame him, not after how much she’d hurt him, but it made her realize how open he’d always been with her. How willing he’d been to let her see exactly what he was thinking.
She’d not appreciated him enough, she realized, ashamed. “Can I come in?”
He swore under his breath. “Sure, sorry.” He stepped aside to let her in.
She paused in the small hallway, taking in the array of coats hung on the pegs: a strapping man-size black puffer jacket, a worn brown leather jacket, and a small pink coat. Cursing again, he stooped to pick up another child-size coat, this one padded and a shiny purple color. More muffled words followed as he dragged a scooter with silver tassels out of the way and shoved it behind the door. Then he picked up various small shoes and boots and threw them into a cupboard under the stairs before waving her through to the kitchen. “Sorry, the place is a mess.”
It wasn’t the mess she saw. It was how domestic it looked. On one level she’d known he was a dad, but it was still a shock to see the evidence of it dotted all around the place he lived. The notes on the fridge from school, the pink plastic cups by the sink, the stray school sweater on the floor by the washing machine.
He was a family man. She was a career woman.
Her heart faltered. What was shedoinghere?
